The New Agent
by What's up dawwwgg
Summary: What if Neo accepted the agent's offer in the first film? This is an AU where Thomas Anderson becomes an agent, instead of the one. May be hints at slash in the future, not decided yet. Will follow Thomas, and his daily life with the agents. Also has : Agent Brown and Agent Jones in this fic, they don't have any tags.
1. Strange People

It all started with a phone call.

Thomas Anderson was just going on about his every day life as usual, well, his _real _life. A few minutes ago he had a talk with his boss, about how if he "didn't get his act together" he would be forced to find another job. He sat down to get to work as usual when he received a package from a Fed-Ex delivery man, containing a cell phone.

Then he received a phone call..

"Hello?"..

Everything after that was a blur. The only thing he could remember was being pushed into the backseat of a black Ford Falcon by three men in suits. Strangely enough, he had a very vivid dream containing those three men that night.

Somehow they knew. They knew about his secret life, his "hacker" alias, every small little detail about his real life too. Did someone rat him out to the authorities? He'll more than likely will never know. All that he really knows is that it was a VERY strange dream. What the hell even was that thing they inserted into his belly-button? What happened to his mouth? And why did this seem all too real..

Instead of going out of his apartment the next morning, Thomas concluded that it'd be the better decision to stay home that day. Especially after what little he managed to remember from the day before. There really wasn't much for him to do now that he'd been busted. Although it was a dream, it would be too risky to go about his normal business. He'd rather lay low until he knows for a fact that none of this was real.

It was around maybe 3 am when he awoke to something rustling in his apartment, it wasn't out of the norm for someone to break into apartments in his part of town, but he never thought it'd happen to him.

"Whose there?" He called out into the cramped space of mountains upon mountains of papers and the latest tech.

Unsurprisingly, there was no response. The rustling continued, and only started to get closer and closer to where Thomas was hiding. The only good place to hide besides for under the covers was under his desk. There seemed to be no good opportunity to escape from where he was. Soon, black shoes were standing directly in front of him, facing opposite to where he was hidden.

It felt like centuries of sitting in that exact spot staring at the shoes in front of him before they eventually turned around in his direction.

It was already bad enough that someone had broken into his home, but what was even worse was that he somewhat recognized the man staring down at him. It was one of the men he'd seen in his dream, the one who told him everything there was to know about his personal life, the one whom he'd agitated, the one who seemed to be the most in control.

"_Shiiit..." _Thomas muttered to himself, staring deep into the man's eyes through his sunglasses.

The suited man reached for his ear piece, "I've got the target" he said, in a monotone voice.

There was no way in hell Thomas was going to get out of here, even though this was his apartment, the only exists were far from an option right now.

The room was filled with silence.

"I'm assuming I'm going to prison?" He attempted to make conversation, with what he hopped would be a joke. The man stared at him for a few moments, seemingly mulling over what he should say.

"No, Mr. Anderson. Prison isn't an option for you anymore."

_Okay, what the fuck does that mean? I've committed multiple crimes, what much else would there be for me to face besides for jail time? Maybe it's best that I don't know that answer to that.._

Thomas let the topic drop, and gave up all opportunities to speak with the man.

Eventually, two more men entered his room. Of course, they were the other two men from his dream.

The men seemed like they were reading each other's minds, not speaking once when they escorted him out of the building into that oh so familiar Ford Falcon.

He sat in between the tallest man and the shortest man while their "leader" drove them into the night.

After a couple of minutes, he blacked out.

He awoke in a completely new room in an entirely different building.

_I must've fallen asleep.. _He walked over to the bathroom, wanting to zone out for a bit in the shower for an hour or so. He looked into the mirror at his image, he looked more disheveled than usual, and had slightly paler skin than what he remembered having. Maybe they did something to him while he was asleep? Actually, he'd rather not think about that right now.

He undressed and stepped into the shower. Even though he originally just wanted to soak in the water from the shower-head, he hadn't had a shower in a while, so he might as well.

"Mr. Anderson?" He heard someone call from the bedroom.

Thomas decided that it'd be better if he didn't respond, assuming that whoever it was would realize he was in the shower.

After two minutes of nothing from the other room, someone entered the bathroom.

"HEY!" Thomas shouted, pulling the shower curtain over in his direction, covering up anything that he didn't want the man to see.

"Hello, Mr. Anderson. I've come to check up on how you were doing."

The man was wearing what looked like the same suit from before, how long was he asleep for?

"Who are you?" Thomas asked, relaxing a bit.

The suited man walked a little bit closer to him, "Smith. Agent Smith," he reached out to shake Thomas' hand, despite the fact that he was still completely nude, and drenched in a combination of water and soap. It'd be rude of him to refuse, so he accepted Smith's handshake. His grip was firm, and actually a bit too tight..

"You probably have many questions as to where you are, what's going on, and why this is all happening, correct?" Smith continued.

Thomas nodded slowly, wondering what he was trying to say.

"Well, might as well start with the simple stuff. As previously mentioned, I am Agent Smith, I work with my colleagues Agent Brown and Agent Jones, we have been watching you for quite a while Mr. Anderson, and we think you'd be of use to us. You previously rejected our offer, but that doesn't work for us."

Thomas remembers giving Smith the finger in what he thought was his dream two days ago.

"So.. That wasn't a dream then, was it?" Thomas asked, putting two and two together.

"No," Smith shook his head, "it was not. Now, you will work for us Mr. Anderson, whether you like it or not." He started him directly in the eyes, still wearing the sunglasses that he'd worn the night before.

Thomas continued to ask questions, like what agents were, what they did, and a bunch of questions about the matrix and Morpheus.

"Well, why do you want me?"

Smith somehow became even more serious than what he was before, "Because you are different. You have potential, potential that we can not let Morpheus take from us."

Smith turned and walked out of the bathroom, and back into the bedroom, letting Thomas continue his shower.

Twenty minutes later, he walked out into the bedroom, met by Smith, who was holding a suit, dress shirt, and a tie out towards him.

"And.. You're sure that you have the right guy?" Thomas asked slowly, wanting Smith to confirm that he is the one that they want.

"Definitely."

Thomas quickly got dressed, and waited for Smith to give him any further instructions.

Smith walked towards him and placed a pair of glasses, similar to the ones that the other agents wore, into his hand. They were both indoors, but Smith wanted him to put them on anyway.

"I've already told you about what we do," Smith started, fixing up Thomas' terrible tie, "but your training will have to wait until another day."

Although he didn't really want to show it, Smith seemed slightly saddened by this information, yet he spoke anyways, "For now," he returned back to his previous mood, "you'll have to stay here and.. Entertain yourself. If you need anything, call."

Smith pointed towards a chrome rotary dial phone on the nightstand. "You'll know what to dial."

Although he wanted him to stay, he watched Smith walk out of the room, back to his other duties. Whatever they may be, if he even had anything else to do in the first place.

Now there was another problem. What would Thomas do to occupy himself?


	2. A New Life

Phapht.. phapht.. phapht... The small ball hit the wall. It had been a few hours since Smith had last payed a visit. He told him to find something to entertain himself with, and that "your training will have to wait another day".

_Maybe I should call? I can't just throw this ball all day long. Besides, I have some more questions to ask him. _

Thomas sat up, and started to make his way towards the chrome rotary dial phone. _He said I'd know what to call.. But nothing is coming to me. _Then, something came into his mind.

_**01001000 01100101 01101100 01110000...**_

He dialed.

The person, THING, on the other end of the line picked up.

"Hello?" He called into the receiver.

Nothing but silence was heard on the other end of the line.

Then, he heard a knock at his door. Thomas laid the phone down on the table, making sure not to hang up, and walked carefully to the door. After a moment of listening to dead silence, he opened the door.

"You called Mr. Anderson?" Smith greeted, stepping forward to enter the quaint room.

"Uh, yeah." Thomas stuttered, still confused by how this man knew he'd rang, and how he got here that quickly. "I have a few questions.. I'm still immensely confused by all this."

He motioned for Smith to sit down with him at a small circular table, seated directly outside of the what he assumed to be, hotel window.

"So.. Why do I need to train? What um.. What would I be trying to train for, training to do..?" He stammered awkwardly, still trying to grasp the current situation.

Smith sat in the chair, contemplating what he should say.

"There are many who try to escape this world. The Matrix, many of Morpheus' followers, citizens who search for what lies beyond." Smith slowly took off his sunglasses, and neatly laid them to his left on the table, "we," Smith points to himself then to Thomas, "aim to stop them. We have many ways of doing so, all being elaborate, and hard for the average human to achieve." he paused, "Luckily for you, you are not exactly human anymore." He smirked.

This only led to more confusion. _I'm not human? What did they do to me? What was that... "bug" they put inside of me? What is happening.. _

Thomas started at the table, trying to wrap his mind around what he knows so far.

Then he blurted out, "So.. Then I'll never be the same again, huh?" anxiety laced in his voice, not wanting his deepest and worst fears to be confirmed for him.

Smith picked up his glasses, putting them on and taking his eyes and his true expression away with him.

"No. There is no turning back Mr. Anderson. I'm afraid it is too late for you to go back to the life you once knew." He pushed himself away from the table, offering his hand to the panic-stricken and very confused man. "Come with me Anderson. There are some things that you should be told about."

He took his hand, getting up out of his chair. Returning his back to to his side, he followed the stern man he'd only just met a day or so ago.

The next thing he knew, he was outside on the street following Smith to his next destination.

Next thing he knew, he was inside of an office building.

The place seems to be important. There were two metal detectors and a plethora of officers and security stationed out front.

"What's so important about this place?" He looked up to Smith, who walked past everyone, acting like he was above the rest.

"Every crew of agents has their own base. Ours just so happens to be an office building." he answered, heading toward an elevator in the center of the room.

He called the elevator, looking straight ahead until the elevator arrived. They stepped in, Smith pressed a button for one of the higher floors in the complex.

"So... What kind of work do you usually do?" Thomas tried to make conversation with the man in the rather sad elevator.

Smith glanced over, looking at him from the side of his view, "Patrolling and hunting red-pills."

"Does that mean I'd have to do that too?" He looked directly at the man, trying to hide the concern in his eye. Never in his life did Thomas ever expect to possibly be responsible for pretty much being a hit-man. Smith only nodded in response, confirming his fears.

_**DING **_


	3. It's a Living

The elevator door opened, revealing an open office-like room. There were tiles on the wall that could remind one of the typical bathroom wall. To contrast the bathroom vibe, across from the walls was a giant window, showing a glorious view of the city.

On the right side of the room there were two other men, both of which he remembers holding him down to insert that thing, inside of his bellybutton. Actually, was it ever even removed?

Smith approached the taller of the two, addressing to him as "Jones".

"Do we show him the basics of being an agent?" The smaller of the two inquired.

Smith shook his head, and looked back to Thomas, who was awkwardly standing and staring, trying to find a way to fit in for the time being.

"Not yet," he turned back to Jones and Brown, "he is still very confused by his situation. Give him a day or more to adapt."

Thomas walked towards the window, seemingly in a trance from the afternoon sun hitting the plethora of buildings below. Really, he was sad he didn't go outside very often in the past, there's so many beautiful moments that are caught in the human memory. He briefly took off the sunglasses that hid his eyes, the dimness of the shades prevented him from seeing the true essence of his surroundings.

Smith, the only other agent he really knew at the moment, approached him.

"Since you'll be working with us.." He looked towards the other two as they briskly walked towards him, "you will have to know all of us." He paused, "and there are **many **of us."

The shortest agent approached and stuck his hand out towards Thomas, offering a handshake. Of course, he accepted, and shook the man's hand.

"Hello. I am agent Brown, I look forward to working with you." he smirked, walking off back to his original position. Jones, who he had briefly heard the name of, said and did the exact same thing as his partner. They really didn't do much, besides for having a slow speech pattern and dressing rather fancy, so they really wouldn't seem very unique to anyone who didn't know them. Which, he assumes, is what they want. _I don't really know how that'd work out for me.. I'm pretty eccentric.. _Thomas thought to himself, feeling even more nervous about his new job, or rather new life.

Smith introduced him to the easy work, tracking and noting various "anomalies" in the city. According to him, there's other places within the Matrix, like in Europe, where the agents dress and have different cultures than here in America. Was this even America? The Matrix really confuses him, it's hard to grasp when one day someone tells and brings you into a drastically different reality than the one you're used to. So far, it's better to just roll with it and ask questions later. 

Eventually, Jones and Brown left the office, Smith presumably sticking around to make sure I wasn't trying to get away with something. One thing I did learn today though, was that my whole life was a lie. Ghosts and vampires? Oh they're very much real. The paranormal? Nope! All just a glitch in the Matrix. Actually, there wasn't really much going on today. Besides for the occasional use of a Ouija Board, but hey, kids will be kids! Even if it means possibly being haunted for the rest of your life.

Out of nowhere though, Agent Jones came into the room.

"Back up is required." He stood, awaiting a response from Smith.

Smith looked towards Thomas, considering if he should take him with him or not. Usually, if one agent goes down, there should be a hell of a lot more after the attacker.

"Anderson," he started at Jones, "get up and grab a gun."

_Where in the hell am I supposed to get a gun from? _He thought, before he had the urge to look inside of the drawer of his desk. Almost as if it was magic, there was a gun there. _This definitely wasn't here before.. _He remembered looking inside of the drawer earlier, and not seeing anything but miscellaneous

office supplies strewn about inside.

Of course, he grabbed the gun and followed the other two to the outside of the building.

He got into that oh so familiar car that he remembered being driven in when he was taken from his home. Honestly, it wasn't a bad car. He wondered how he'd never seen the car before, but it was completely black, and not very memorable. It wouldn't be a surprise if he had seen the car before at some point, before he got himself into this mess.

Next thing he knew, he was in hot pursuit with what what was assumed to be a red-pills. He couldn't see that far ahead of him, he could see that the man was fast, and wore mostly white, besides for his, what he could tell, short possibly black hair? For now though, all he knew was that the man was fast, and seemed to know the ins and outs of the city like the back of his hand. He seems to be heading towards an abandoned apartment complex of some sort, maybe this where the others like him hideout?

That was probably a stretch, but not too drastic to put past this seemingly crazy world.

When they all turned to follow him around the building, he seemed to have disappeared into thin air. He overheard Smith curse under his breath. Maybe they have a history with this man?

"Who was that?" He asked, looking towards the others, who were now walking back the way they came.

Jones stopped and looked back towards Thomas, "That was seraph. An exile, he works for the oracle."

_The oracle? _He wondered. _If someone has that important of a meaning to Seraph, or anyone really, they must be pretty important. _

Luckily though, he didn't have to use his gun today. It still irks him to think about how one day he may be responsible for someone's demise. Of course, it is not a good feeling in the slightest. To some it would be, but to the average person, it wouldn't. Although technically he was no longer human, Thomas still wanted to grip onto the remaining pieces of humanity he had left. God he misses the days when he could just sleep at his desk, without a care in the world. Besides for his side jobs, his actual job, and his "hacker life", but that was a given.

Sooner or later, all of them were back in that black Ford Falcon. No one spoke, maybe because they felt as if they didn't need to, but it sure was lonely.

It was a little after dusk when they returned to the large seemingly unnamed building, going past security, into the elevator, and back onto the floor they had originally been on earlier that day. What a day it has been. All Thomas really wants is sleep and the sweet embrace of the sheets on his bed. Well, technically they belonged to a hotel, but he considered them to be his. He was staying there for what seemed like forever now, right? They might as well be his.

Speaking of the hotel, where exactly was it? Earlier when he walked over with Smith he was too busy in his thoughts to think about or even consider his surroundings that much.

"Hey uh.. Smith?" Thomas looked towards the man, "Where exactly is the hotel that I'm staying at?"

Smith turned in his general direction, "There's no need for you to stay there anymore," he sat down in an office chair, "you live here now. This place isn't just an office. It's our home, and our base of operations."

_Cool. So privacy that I once liked is gone now. _Thomas moped inside of his head. _Actually, where the hell would I sleep anyways?_

"Soo.. Where do I sleep?" He asked once more.

For the what seemed like the fifth time that day, Smith led him into the elevator.


	4. Sweet Dreams

Elevator ride was silent like the others previous in the day. It was still awkward, but the silence was more so due to Thomas' realization of his life from now on.

_**DING**_

The door opened to reveal an average apartment like hallway. He was always iffy about the place since the beginning, but now he has to wonder..

_What kind of strange things are these men capable of doing? Since I'm one of them now, does that mean I'd be able to do things like this too? _Thomas wondered, as he blindly followed Smith down the hall. They stopped at room "101". Immediately Thomas knew the number. Smith led him inside, and there it was. The exact same design and make of his old apartment room. Everything he had was in there, maybe his old software was still in there? That thought shall stay on the shelf for later..

"You seem to be confused," Smith looked over to Thomas, who was standing beside him, "To make you feel more.. At home.. We have decided to replicate your room."

"I-Thanks." Thomas responded, stumbling into his room. Just to try it, he closed the door and opened it back up again. The door opened to reveal Smith standing there.

_ So it doesn't teleport me back to my room.. Lesson learned. _Thomas stepped back outside and thanked.. You know what was he? His boss? Leader..? I guess he's just Smith.

Smith left, leaving Thomas in a foreign yet strangely familiar place. Sleep was definitely needed.

Thomas laid down on his bed.. The comfy sheets he bought himself lulling him to sleep.. Light then slowly turned into darkness..

When he opened his eyes, he was on the floor in some weird white place. There were train tracks ahead of him and behind there was a sign that read "MOBIL AVE". There was no one else in the area, just Thomas. He seemed to be wearing the same clothes he fell asleep in, which was the suit he had worn throughout he day. Which Thomas had only just realized he forgot to take off.. Too late now!

He got up and walked over towards the train tracks, he considered hopping down, but then suddenly a train sped into view.

A man stepped out, he looked similar to the average homeless person you would find in a subway station. Maybe he somehow caught a ride?

"Where am I?" Thomas asked, looking off towards the inside of the train. There didn't seem to be anyone else onboard.

The unkempt man stuck both of his hands in the air, backing away ever so slightly.

He looked very uneasy.

"Sir?" he asked the man again, a little unnerved by his actions.

"How did you get here?"

Thomas stood confused. What is happening?

"I-" Before he had any chance to reply, the man ahead of him quickly reached for his gun in fear and fired.

"HANG ON W-" Thomas screamed when he pulled the trigger.

"-AIT!" He jolted forward in his bed. He looked over to check the time.

_**8:00 A.M.**_

_When did I go to sleep? _Thomas wondered. He sat for a second, trying to collect himself. _Did the others hear that? _

He got up and checked his closet, maybe his old clothes were in there.

Of course, they were not. In their place, there were multiple different coat jackets and white shirts. There were also neatly folded pairs of pants on the ground below him. Did Smith do this?

Thomas looked around trying to see what all had stayed the same, his equipment had been updated to the latest tech, his hacks and codes were missing. Great. He didn't really need them anymore, but so much time was spent trying to perfect and improve his hacking skills. A memory of the past if you will. He even attempted to check his copy of __Simulacra___ and Simulation_, but it was absent from his shelf. Why would they take it?

Deciding that he had checked everything that could have been missing or replaced, Thomas stepped out of his room into the hallway. What floor was the office room on? Thinking back to yesterday, he thought of something Smith had told him. _There's no need for you to stay there anymore you live here now. This place isn't just an office. It's our home, and our base of operations."_

Maybe they also slept on this floor.. If they slept at all that is.

So, he knocked the door closest to him. A few seconds later, someone opened the door.

It was Agent Brown. He wore exactly what he wore yesterday, including the earpiece.

"Anderson?" Brown stared slightly upward at him. He didn't notice it the day before, but he was actually a little bit taller than the agent.

Thomas cleared his throat, "Uh, hi," he fidgeted, "I have absolutely no idea what I'm doing."

Brown was similarly confused, but invited him inside of his room.

Brown's room was nothing special, agents had seemingly mundane lives and didn't really seem to need much. He had a computer close the wall, it looked similar to the one he has currently. The desk wasn't the same as his though, but it did look similar. Maybe agents did sleep, because he had a bed. The colors were a mixture of green and white.

"So.." Thomas wandered off, "How uh.. how'd you end up in this position?"

Brown sat at the computer desk, which was the only place to sit besides for his bed.

"I was made to be an agent."

That's new.. And confirms Thomas' theory that these agents aren't human. Well, according to Smith, he wasn't exactly human anymore either.

"You were.. Made?"

"Yes. From the Source."

What the hell is the source?

"What exactly is the source..?" Thomas asked, hoping this wasn't crossing too many boundaries or somehow making the agent uncomfortable.

"The source is where programs and agents are produced. In the Matrix there are programs, each and every single one has a purpose. If they do not, we, the agents, are sent out to execute them. There are also the exiles, they had a purpose, but rebelled when told to return to the source. Similarly, we hunt them down as well."

Cool. So this job involves quite a bit of murder..

He now only was one more question that he's aching to ask..

"If agents are "born" and not made, why am I an agent?"

Brown sat for a moment, "Originally, we were watching you to see what exactly you were up to. We figured out that you were looking for Morpheus, and Smith had decided to attempt to recruit you as one of our own. It wasn't due to us not wanting you to be on his side, but more so potential."

Potential? Thomas A. Anderson and the word potential in the same sentence?

_What could I do that agents would possibly need? _


	5. Alone and Afraid

Thomas' morning so far had been quite strange. Well, actually, it's the strangest morning he's ever had. Nothing could compare to his previous life now that he was an agent. He was now destined to see and personally find terrible or peculiar things.

Technically, today was his first day as an agent. Hopefully, nothing too stressful would occur..

He was back in his room, it was still strange to him to be inside of his apartment, but also not at the same time.

Thomas sat at his computer desk, playing Mine Sweeper. The game seemed to be sort of fun, but is actually mostly difficult and seems to require some sort of skill. It was either this, or Solitaire, and he wasn't that great at Solitaire.

Just as he was about to click again on the grid, someone knocked on his door.

"Who is it?" He called, wondering which of the agents it would be. So far, his bets were on Smith.

"Agent Smith." 

He called it!

Before he could call back telling him to come in, he opened the door anyway.

_**Noted, Smith does not care about privacy. **_

"Good morning Anderson," he lulled, "we have some business to refer to."

"Well.. What're we doing today?"

Smith looked back toward him from the door-frame, "We never know.."

Then he walked off.

"_God that man is strange... Well, __**AGENT**__.."_ He mumbled to himself.

Smith, who left his door open, is not helping his case involving privacy. Thomas walked over to the door and shut it, so that he could get changed into his daily attire. Which apparently, could also be his sleepwear. Or maybe that's just Brown..

He put on his black pants, white shirt, and suit jacket. Of course as well, he had to put in his earpiece, which rang in a way similar to microphone feedback as he put it in. And then no sound came. Curious as to what his colleagues were up to, he pressed his index and middle finger to his ear... He still heard nothing. So he released his fingers and moved on with his day, putting on his sunglasses as he walked out of his room.

–

He went down to the elevator, trying to remember what floor their work room was on. Then Agent Jones walked in, and pressed the button for the 30th floor.

"_I guess that solves my problem then.." _

His fellow agents didn't really speak much, they mostly kept to themselves.

Others may find it insane to make conversation with them, but if he's going to be working alongside them for the rest of his life, he might as well make friends with his colleagues. He did so with Brown, why not Jones and Smith?

"So..." then he remembered that he didn't know anything about them. "What have you been up to so far Jones..?"

_That was lame.. _

The taller man looked over toward him, the expression on his face staying exactly the same as it was when he got in, "Nothing."

Maybe they stay quiet because they don't have much to talk about.. And maybe because they don't seem to really do much besides work.

"This is a boring elevator isn't it? No music playing or any-"

"It is adequate."

_'Hopefully this elevator ride will be over soon...'_ Thomas thought..

–

_**DING **_

…

The whole ride was silent after his last conversation with Jones.

He took a few seconds longer to get out of the elevator actually, after that he didn't want to be too close to Jones.

Now he had to meet up with all three of them. Hopefully, Smith isn't as picky about talking..

Now he wished that he walked in with Jones, seeing as he was now greeted by all three of the agents staring at him as he walked in.

"Anderson." Smith nodded toward him, proceeding to motion for him to join them in their strange little circle they were standing in.

_'What is this kindergarten?' _Thomas joked to himself as he walked.

All four of them stood for a brief moment before Smith continued, "The Merovingian has caused more problems in the Matrix," he paused, "it is known that he houses exiles... But there is one that may be of use to us."

Next thing he knew, he was inside of the black car they all rode in.

Jones sat in the passenger seat as Smith drove. He couldn't be more thankful for that right now. At least he got to sit by Brown, who so far, is the friendliest of the others.

"Anderson," Brown began, "how is your day?"

Wow, he actually cares!

"Decent," he spoke, before hushing his voice for what he wanted to say next, "... Although I feel like I've gotten off to a bad start with Jones earlier. He doesn't seem like the type to hold a conversation."

Brown nodded, "Jones is tough.. Yet he is valuable and worth the time and effort of "friendship"."

"Maybe," he shook his head, "how's you do it? I know you've known each other your entire existence, but how do you do more than just tolerate each other?"

"Give him space. If he thinks he requires you to be a friend, he will show it."

–

Then they stopped in front of a cream colored building. There were two entrances, one on the far left side and one on the far right.

They all stepped out of the car at the same time, with Thomas himself being last one out by a few seconds.

"Find the Frenchman." Smith directed Jones before waving at Thomas to come closer.

"Stay with me," he spoke before looked toward the shortest of the four of them, agent Brown, "guard the building. Look for exiles entering."

_'This can't be good...' _he thought to himself as Smith escorted him inside.

The inside was quite large, which fit the outside. They stopped at one of the elevators, waiting to be brought to the 101st floor.

Not long after they arrived, the elevator came down to greet them. The inside had green walls with two bars of light on each corner.

They quickly stepped in, Jones may have found another way onto the floor..

Smith blocked off the entrance so no blue-pills could get in. This was a serious matter, and they had to be alone.

The door closed without a sound, leaving the pair in yet another silent elevator.

"Has Jones found the...?"

"Merovingian?" Smith finished for him. He pressed two fingers to his earpiece, leaving Thomas oblivious to what was happening.

"Have you found him?" Smith spoke to Jones via his earpiece. Once he figured out how to use his, maybe it could be useful...

"He's on our floor."

–

_**DING **_

"Can these things not be quieter?" He wondered aloud as he followed Smith.

He looked around at the short hall they were in, there were more and more elevators lining the area. This place must really be in high demand..

Ahead of them was a man, he looked down at his podium seemingly oblivious to who was approaching him. He wore all black, with hair the same color to match.

"Puis-je vous aider?" The man spoke in a language he assumed to be french.

The podium man rose his head and froze when he saw Smith, clearly not expecting to find an agent in a place like this.

"Where is he?" Smith questioned, his tone flat as usual.

The man refused to respond, just staring at Smith, possibly looking back on all of his previous choices and where they got him. Here, to his possible demise. Then he ran, as most would in this situation.

Smith sighed, and motioned for him to follow.

_'Did he know where the "Frenchman" was the whole time?' _Thomas thought as he speed walked after the agent.

Soon they found themselves in a room that felt both small and wide at the same time.

There were many dining tables scattered about, with fancy and proper looking people sitting at each one. As usual, everything had a green tint. When he became an agent yesterday, he gradually began to realize the always lurking and present color of green everywhere he went. There was seemingly no escape from it.

At the end of the room was a large window, with a wide dining table beneath it. There were two people seated at this table. A bald man in a dark suit and a woman in what could only be described as a rather revealing outfit.

_'Why would someone ever need **that big** of a table?' _

Neither of the people seated were looking in their direction, both were looking in the opposite in fact.

The man was looking to the left and the woman to the right.

_'What could they be looking at?' _

Then they both looked at him. Not Smith, him. **Thomas Anderson**.

"Merde!" The man yelled as he drew a gun.

Suddenly he was on the ground, blood was gushing from his leg. He had never felt such pain before. Not even in his dreams.

He didn't know what was happening around him, all he could hear were screams. Yelling and screams.

Nothing would come out of his mouth as he tried to speak. His mouth was thankfully still there, unlike when he had been confronted by the agents for the first time.

He felt like he was dying. Maybe it was due to the loss of blood, the pain, it could've been anything by this point. All he knew was that he was going to die alone. Well, not really alone, but he would die without friends, family, no one he cared about or loved. At this point, he would've more than accepted Jones or Smith to be by his side. He just didn't want it all to be over while he was alone.

"...anderson.." He could hear a faint voice call.

His hearing was slowly fading away as time went by.

Suddenly, he wasn't on the ground anymore. Someone was carrying him. Maybe he wasn't going to die alone. Actually, maybe he wasn't going to die at all.

He still couldn't see very well, but the person carrying him looked to be an agent. Whether it was Jones, Brown, or Smith he didn't know, but at least it was someone he could trust.

Whoever was holding him kept talking, and time to time they lifted their arm up a little bit to reach for some thing. He assumed it was probably the agent reaching for their earpiece, seeing as almost every time they reached, they spoke soon after. What they were saying he couldn't tell, but he hoped it was a call for help.

Then he passed out.

–

"Nggmmphh..."He groaned as he awoke, groggy and oblivious to his surroundings. All that he could remember before he woke up was walking behind Smith. He didn't know and couldn't remember where, but he knew he was with Smith.

_'Did they do something to me..?'_ He wondered as he propped himself up with his arms.

Then he heard shuffling to his left. Someone else was in the room with him. Where ever this room was..

"Don't get up" He could hear a familiar voice speaking to him. He just didn't know who yet.

Whoever they were, they gently pushed him back into a laying position.

"You won't be able to walk for some time now Anderson.."

Then it hit him.

"Smith!" He never thought he'd be so glad that he was here. Ignoring the statement about his leg, he tried moving his bottom half, only to be greeted by intense pain.

"What the hell..? What happened to me?"

"You were shot." Smith got straight to the point, not going into detail about what happened specifically.

"We did not find the exile, due to your injury.." He paused, "but.. You are safe. Barely, you almost died."

Then he remembered. He remembered the pain, the confusion, almost everything.

And he remembered being carried away.

"Were you the one that got me out of there?" Now that he was awake, he came to realize that speaking was a little harder. Despite him only getting shot in the leg.

"Yes. I found the exile in the room after you were injured, but stopped to get you out. I did not know if you were like us."

"What do you mean _"I didn't know if you were like us"? _I'm an agent now, aren't I?" he thought he knew the gist of being an agent, but apparently there's more than Thomas could've ever imagined.

"Yes, you are an agent Anderson," he began, "but, there are things we do not know. We do not know if you are capable to regenerate after your death."

"_**You are the first to be turned into an agent. You were not programmed this way, yet we changed you, but we do not know how much got transferred over." **_

Suddenly, things got a lot more complicated than what he ever thought anything could be.

_How did he get himself into this mess? _


End file.
